


In The End

by Selvaria



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff, Gore, M/M, Multi, No Capes/No Super Heroes, Non-Canon Relationship, Only vigilantes, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Romance, Suspense Thriller, Trauma, Violence, more tags to come later to avoid spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25971601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selvaria/pseuds/Selvaria
Summary: All hell has befallen the world in the span of a few days, and your home city of Gotham was now a breeding ground for the undead. With each new victim they spread their disease, building their ranks and overrunning the world. A month has passed since that first day, your supplies dwindling to nearly nothing. You have no choice, but to take a risk and hope that it was the right decision.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Reader, Jason Todd/Reader
Kudos: 9





	In The End

**Author's Note:**

> One of several stories I’ve been sitting on for a long time. lol Actually wrote this way before DCeased ever existed, so don’t even think of that series when you read this. They’re completely unrelated. This story was born from my lifelong love of the zombie horror films and games I grew up on. xD Zombie stories are something I rarely write, which is one reason I hesitated on uploading this one to begin with.
> 
> **== DO NOT REUPLOAD MY WORK ANYWHERE! ==  
>  ============ THANK YOU! ============**

_It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

The plan was a simple supply run. A search for food to survive at least a few more days before venturing out again. Everything had fallen apart the moment you had entered that deserted grocery store. Or at least you’d thought it was deserted. A few minutes into gathering the few scraps of edible food that was left scattered about the floors and shelves, a bunch of undead denizens had made their presence known, piling in through the warehouse doors.

You ran through the entrance as fast as your legs could carry you, back onto the rainy streets of Gotham City, only to be met by another horde. You dodged the oncoming assault of greedy hands reaching out to claim your flesh and tear it apart, racing down the road frantically looking for a place to hide and wait it out. Their moans filled your ears like a melody from your worst nightmares, chilling you to the bone while your heart slammed into your chest with each step.

_I can’t let them catch me!_

You turn into an alley, seeking refuge from the terrors that hunted you relentlessly, but to your lament, you were met with a dead end. A high fence blocked your path, mocking your efforts to survive.

_Just one more fucking day…that’s all I wanted._

You had refused to give up the search for your family and friends, hoping they’d survived somewhere in the hellish nightmare that has befallen the world in such a short time. But now, staring into the hungry faces of those who wished for your death, you felt it had all been in vain.

_Is this how I’m going to die…?_

Gritting your teeth you close your eyes in defeat, back against the fence, awaiting the inevitable.

_I wasn’t supposed to die like this. Why did any of this even happen?_

Another sound rips you from your final thoughts. An object swinging through the air, cracking against what sounded like bone. You open your eyes to find it’s source, and there before you was the sight of several men going to town on the undead that had followed you. Colors of Red, Green, Black and Blue all filled your vision as they took them down one by one, blood painting the walls surrounding you and the pavement below.

Stunned by the unexpected outcome, you hadn’t even realized you had collapsed to the ground until the young man with the crowbar was towering over you, reaching out his hand.

“C’mon, get the hell up already! There’s more on the way!”

The urgency in his voice sparked something inside you, grabbing the hand he had offered to follow his lead. You had thought you were as good as dead, but now it seemed your prayers had been answered. It had to be a miracle because the timing was far too perfect. Your mind carried on with these thoughts, drowning out the cries of the undead and focusing on the hand that was still holding yours tightly as you ran behind him.

When the mad dash ends, you’re standing in front of a reception desk inside a large building. Your senses come back to you when your mind calms down, turning around to see the other men barricading the doors behind you.

“We should be okay here for now.” A raven haired man said exhaustedly before stepping away from the door. “We should check things out though, just to be safe.”

“This was a stupid idea, Grayson! How do we know this one’s not infected?!” The shortest and youngest amongst them points to you with venom in his gaze, chilling you to the bone. “We just risked our lives on a gamble. And for what? Now we’re stuck here for who knows how long!” He throws his hands up into the air, clearly pissed off by the situation.

“I--” You tried to plead your case, but another strong voice interjected. It was the same man that had led you to safety.

“ _Can it_ , demon! Do you see any _blood_ on ‘em? No? I didn’t fuckin’ think so. Now shut your yap before you bring another goddamn horde down on us.”

“How about I just _kill you_ instead?” If looks could kill, you were certain the man standing next to you would be dead right now.

“Dami!” The eldest looking man shouts, scolding the boy. “That’s _enough_. We’re fine. Everyone is alive and well. There’s no need to argue.”

The boy clicks his tongue, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from you. It was surprising to see how quickly the little spitfire backed down from the argument despite his protests.

“Uh--um…I’m not infected.” You finally get the words out as they all calm down, worried that they might actually think you’re a risk they’re not willing to take.

“I know,” the man standing next to you replies, staring straight into your eyes. “If you _were_ infected I would’ve taken you out myself.” The words were harsh, like a knife twisting in your belly, but he continued on. “I looked you over as soon as we got in here. There’s no blood on your clothes, and if you had been bitten earlier, that run would’ve pushed it through your bloodstream faster. You’d be sick as a dog right now.”

It made sense. You’ve seen someone turn once, staring in horror while peeking from behind closed curtains. You had wanted to go outside and help them when you saw them running and suddenly collapse, throwing up violently on the pavement. It only took a few moments for her to stop moving--to stop _breathing_ \--and you knew she was gone, the blood oozing from her arm and spreading out across the ground. Around thirty minutes later, you hear the moaning outside your window and dared to peek again. It was the same woman, only now she was a shell of what she once was, wanting for nothing but to feed on any poor living soul that crossed her path. It was horrifying, and made it all the more difficult to find the courage to venture out for food.

Shuttering at the memory, you stop yourself from thinking of it, instead deciding to focus on the four boys in front of you. Upon closer inspection, you realize something you hadn’t before during the chaos moments earlier.

_Wait…they all look the same…_

Despite the fact that they were all wearing different outfits of varying colors, each of them had jet black hair and dazzling blue eyes. The only exception was the youngest whose eyes were almost an emerald green.

“Are you guys brothers?” The question was innocent, but it still provoked a laugh from the two eldest boys, and a scoff from the youngest.

“Yes, though we’re all adopted, minus the little one there,” Dick replies, pointing his thumb toward the smallest boy in the room. He looked around thirteen or so. “The fact that we all look alike is just a coincidence.”

An idle thought crossed your mind that their parents must have had a specific type in mind while adopting them. The resemblance was uncanny. Brushing it aside, you nod your head and lean against the desk, trying to relax your body as much as possible while you attempt to process the recent flood of events. This was not how today was supposed to go.

The man next to you steps away, readjusting his grip on the crowbar he’d been holding in his right hand the entire time. “I’m gonna go check things out.” He says to the oldest before turning to the other boy who’d been quiet throughout the whole exchange. “You’re coming with me, Timmy.” He doesn’t give room for argument, walking down the corridor to begin his inspection.

“Right…” the other boy responds dejectedly, walking past you to trail behind him, gripping the long pipe he’d been using as a weapon even tighter. His eyes meet yours for a second, slightly obscured by the hood framing his face, before he walks away without another word.

“Sorry about all that.” The eldest makes his way towards you, reaching out his hand to you in the form of an introduction. “My name is Dick. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His polite demeanor left you feeling dumbstruck, mindlessly reaching out your hand to shake his. It was amazing that anyone still alive would put effort into upholding their manners, given all that’s happened. But something about that name gave you pause, striking a cord in your memory and connecting it with what the boy had said earlier.

_‘Dick.’_

_‘Grayson.’_

_Oh my god…_

You’d heard the name before so many times in the news, but never knew his face until now.

“Dick Grayson…” you say aloud, breathless from the realization. “You’re--you’re Bruce Wayne’s sons!”

An awkward smile forms on his lips when he lets go of your hand, looking away from you as if something was on his mind. “Yeah…we are.” The quiet tone of his voice made him seem somewhat vulnerable in that moment, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Anyway, that grumpy little kid over there is Damian.” He says with a crooked smile, pointing his index finger towards his little brother. You hear him grumble and huff at the introduction, refusing to participate in the conversation.

_Not exactly a ray of sunshine, is he…?_

“The tall one that dragged you here is Jason,” he continues, “and the one in the red and black hoodie is Tim.” He turns back to you and his beautiful cerulean eyes captivate your own, that boyish smile melting through some of the fear that was still lingering inside you. “And who might you be?”

You fumble on your words, stuttering out your name in embarrassment only to be met with a gentle laugh. “That’s a cute name. It suits you.” Those words only served to fluster you more, not at all used to dealing with what could practically be considered royalty in Gotham City. The Wayne’s were the richest family residing in Gotham which placed them in the limelight on many occasions. Bruce Wayne himself being one of the biggest names in technology and philanthropy alike. Not that any of that mattered anymore. Even so, you still found yourself a bit starstruck by the sudden encounter.

He reaches for a bag you hadn’t realized he was carrying before, opening it up to grab a bottle of water and hand it to you. “Here, you must be thirsty. That run wasn’t exactly a light jog,” he says with a laugh, placing the bottle carefully in your hands.

“B-but, I can’t--” You try to protest the offer, not wanting to be a burden to them or place them at any kind of disadvantage. Supplies were scarce, and clean water was precious.

“Please,” he begs, “you’re pale and you look like you haven’t eaten, or even had a drink in days.”

His plea tore into your heart. It was so caring and desperate, you couldn’t find any more words to reject the kind offer. He was worried about you, even though he didn’t know you. That sentimentality was something you sorely missed. “Okay…” You agreed softly, holding the bottle closer to your chest. “Thank you.” 

You gave him the best smile you could offer after having spent an entire month in fear, depression, and anxiety. Being alone in a world gone to shit hadn’t been easy on you, and now you’re finding yourself having to relearn how to interact with others again, because everyone around you must be living in fear too. Everyone except this man in front of you, smiling so warmly it’s as if nothing around him had ever changed.

“I’m going to go help the others look around. Please wait here until I get back.” He turns to his youngest brother, his sweet voice dropping an octave to sound as authoritative as he had during the argument earlier. “Stay with them until I get back, and run to us if anything happens.”

Damian gives a curt nod to his brother and glares back at the entrance as if he’s waiting for one of the undead to force their way through. You wonder what’s running through the boy’s mind with the way the anger was twisting his features. Was it because of your presence, or something else? You didn’t know, and right now you didn’t think it was a good idea to find out. Instead you let him be, sitting down on the floor to rest against the desk while you slowly nursed the bottle that Dick had thoughtfully given you, losing yourself in thoughts of the what if’s and what’s to come. The biggest question on your mind was simple enough now that you see with your own eyes that you’re not the only one left in this hell.

_Just how many more people have survived?_

_Are you out there somewhere…alone and scared like I was?_

“Do you have a weapon?” The bitter tone of his sudden question startled you enough to grab your attention. Facing the boy whose eyes are now piercing your own. His gaze was unwavering, locking you in place, demanding that you answer.

“I…” It was stupid and embarrassing in hindsight, but at the time you had been too terrified to care. “I dropped it when they started chasing me out of the store.” You swallow hard at the memory, wishing it was all just some horrible nightmare you could wake up from. “They were moving so fast…I was too scared to stop for it.” It was the heartbreaking truth. That knife had meant so much to you and you’d left it behind out of fear. “It was one of the few things I had left of my dad’s and I just fucking left it there…”

Tears began pooling in yours eyes, threatening to spill over if you spoke any further of the subject. The boy clicked his tongue again, but seemed to understand and decided to let it go.

Just when you thought this awkward conversation was over, he spoke again. His words far more mature than you had expected of him. “You don’t need one with me here.”

His confidence brought a small smile to your face, yet you still felt a sense of dread in your heart. He was just a boy, and that confidence could very well get him killed. Will he be okay if you do get attacked again? You didn’t want to think of it, of this poor boy, as bitter as he may seem, torn apart by the soulless monsters that now plague the earth. Instead, you made a silent vow to protect him in any way that you could.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this so far and thank you for reading. :3


End file.
